


Something Borrowed

by Quarantined



Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF, Figure Skating RPF, Maksyl - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, F/M, I don't really know what this is, Mature because reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:50:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarantined/pseuds/Quarantined
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clothes are meant for borrowing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Borrowed

Maks slides his hands onto her waist and tugs her close, her hips pressed into his and her hands held aloft at her sides. He takes in the sight of her, wet tangles of brown hair clinging to her skin, droplets soaking the collar of his shirt that she has on. It is huge on her, sitting mid thigh. She is pressed against the wall of the narrow hall, and he easily towers over her.

“This is mine,” he says in a low whisper, his voice a taunting husk in the air, and Meryl shudders involuntarily because the way he looks at her, she’s not sure he means the clothing. His hand finds her hips and he moulds his fingers into her hipbone, blue cotton clutched in his fingers.

“I…I needed it,” her voice trembles, and he quirks a smug brow at her questionably.

“Is that so?” The smirk on his lips only further taunts her and Meryl suddenly feels warm in this swath of fabric, under the gaze of his accusatory eyes.

She tilts her head up to glare at him, subconsciously folding her arms tightly across her chest. “Yeah, it is,” she shoots back, “I forgot my, um, my pyjamas,” she mumbles, her cheeks colouring. “I just needed to borrow something that fits until I get back to my room, and I’ll give it back, it’s not like I wanted to wear it, because it’s—”

“—mine?” He finishes her sentence curiously, his other hand moving to brush the wet hair from her shoulder, his fingers smoothing out the collar of his shirt, fingertips grazing against her skin. “Fine,” he uncurls his fingers from her waist and drops his hand from her shoulder, and chill invades her skin at the absence of his touch.

“If you want it so badly, take it,” she growls back at him in annoyance, turning on her heel to walk to her room, but he grips her waist and tugs her back, flips her to facing him.

He angles his head down towards her and their faces are so close that she can see the shades of colour in his blue eyes, that she can smell the soap on his jaw from shaving and count every single one of his eyelashes, and she wants to press her mouth on the smirking line of his lips.

"You look good in my clothes," he whispers and she can feel the words wash over her.

She doesn’t know what he intends to do until he does it, until those hot fingers trail up her thigh, and she hisses at the pleasurable touch. Meryl slides her hand onto his shoulder, stares intently into his face, a grin forming on her face, “Is that what you want?” She means to taunt him the way that he’s taunted her, but it comes out as a shaky exhale as his fingers slide up her hips, and the down to where the buttons start.

Maks presses his mouth to hers and hums his approval at the way her lips brush with his, his tongue pressing against her bottom lip slightly before sliding into her mouth, and one hand clamps around her waist as the other makes quick work of the buttons and—

Meryl moans into his mouth when his fingers find the warmth of her sex, parting her slowly before he pushes into her, and she is so done for,  she is so his.


End file.
